Daddy Dearest
by Citizenjess
Summary: Jimmy gets a potentially life changing phone call. Could have slashy undertones if you squint.


Summary: Jimmy gets a potentially life-changing phone call. Rated PG. Written because I really need to go back to school.

* * *

**Daddy Dearest**

* * *

Chazz knew for sure that Jimmy was depressed about something when he came back to their shared cabin and found him curled on the couch, clutching a pillow shaped like The Little Mermaid and watching "Ice Princess" for the sixth time that day. "Dude, you're like, totally bummed or something," he said perceptively.

"I don't want to talk about it," Jimmy said immediately, clutching Ariel to his chest and harrumphing moodily.

Chazz waltzed into the kitchen area and shifted some condiment bottles and a head of lettuce around in the refrigerator, finally coming across the six pack he'd stashed there. Popping open a bottle, he took a long swig and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, then burped. "Whatever, man," he responded with a shrug.

Jimmy hit 'pause' on the DVD player remote and sighed loudly. "Okay, okay, just stop badgering me, I'll tell you! My uh, my dad called today," he said gloomily.

Chazz stopped drinking in mid-gulp. "Your ... oh, OH," he said, which Jimmy took to mean either that he understood the severity of the announcement, or had beer gas. "So what'd he want?" he continued, leaning against the couch in a casual sort of way which Jimmy knew he'd clocked about five hours perfecting.

Jimmy gestered to the counter adjoining the dining room and TV area. "See for yourself, I left it on the answering machine."

Chazz crossed the room. "How is it that he even got this number?" he said, in a rare moment of reflection. "I thought it was unlisted."

Jimmy sighed, exasperated. "Probably the same reason we're still living together even though the championships are still over and I technically have a girlfriend I could move in with."

Chazz's brow furrowed. "You have a girlfriend?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, she's forgettable," Jimmy waved his hand. "Look, just play the gosh-darned message already."

Chazz did. The first five messages were from Hector, Jimmy's pet stalker, three of which made explicit references to the shape of his idol's behind, and the other two the usual garble about removing Jimmy's skin and making a funny hat with it. "I still can't figure out how HE got this number," Chazz mused.

"Maybe 'cause he won that eBay auction for that pair of my leg warmers and you were stupid enough to send him our contact information," Jimmy growled.

"Hey, the winner could have been anybody," Chazz replied heatedly. "That's the risk you take doing business on the Internet, man." The messages continued - one from the lawyer representing Stranz and Fairchild for the allegations against them concerning their dirty fare at the skating championships, two more from Hector ("sometimes I wear one of your leg warmers on my unit and then I go to my weekly erotomania meetings and talk about how cool you are, Jimmy"), and, finally, a single, brief message from Jimmy's ex-adopted father.

"Jimmy, it's uh, it's Dad," Darren MacElroy said awkwardly. "Hey, how are you, kiddo. Listen, uh, I was thinking, uh, I have some business I'd really like to discuss with you. Why don't you meet me Friday at two at Romero's - you know, that place that lets you draw on the table cloth with crayons. My treat. Send a confirmation through my secretary - Brenda, now, I fired Martha because she was diddling one of the gardeners." At this, Chazz grinned. "See you then, Son."

"Whoa," Chazz finally said. "Mackerel Senior wants to make contact again. That's inte-"

"Jimmy, it's me again," Hector's voice simpered once more. "I had a piece of gold shaped into a skating medal, and I'm wearing it right now. Oooh, it feels so cold on my weiner, aaahh ..."

* * *

"I still don't know why you wanted to come," Jimmy said, standing at the entrance of Romero's with Chazz in tow. "You didn't even know my dad."

"They have these orgasmically good breadsticks here," Chazz enthused, and then coughed as Jimmy shot him a withering glance. "And you know, I want to be there for you, buddy," he continued quickly, patting Jimmy on the arm. "I wanna be there to hold you when he breaks your heart again."

"And people say I'm the girl," Jimmy muttered. He sighed. "I guess you're coming since you're already here and all," he said ruefully. The two men stepped through the entrance, immediately greeted by a suited waiter who smiled sycophantically. "Mr. MacElroy is already waiting for you, Sir," he said to Jimmy, and then raised an eyebrow at Chazz, who was leering at a pretty brunette-haired waitress ringing up somebody's order behind a glossy counter. "Is he, erm, part of your entourage?" the waiter continued snootily.

Jimmy nudged Chazz. "Yeah. Where's my dad?" he asked. The waiter motioned for them to follow him, casting one last look of disdain at Chazz, who was scribbling his phone number on the waitress' hand. "Call me," he mouthed as Jimmy tugged him away.

Darren MacElroy was a distinguished-looking man, even when doing something as mundane as waiting for his food to be served. Dressed in a preppy turtleneck sweater and slacks, he stood ram-rod straight as Jimmy approached, mustering a thin-lipped smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. "Son," he said, clasping Jimmy's shoulder just long enough for it to be uncomfortable. "And ... Mr. Michaels. How nice of you to accompany my son today." The icy tone matched his pinched expression, but Chazz didn't seem to mind the chilly reception. On the contrary, he merely puffed his chest out in a show of bravado, a move Jimmy knew was usually pre-empted by him flicking his own nipples. That he didn't perform his trademark self-nurple showed restraint that Jimmy was previously unaware Chazz even had.

The three sat down, Chazz immediately snatching the cup of crayons in the center of the table and doodling a shaggy-haired stick figure sidling up to three crudely-drawn girls (notable because of their disproportionate stick-racks, of course). Jimmy rolled his eyes. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?" he asked his ex-father, sitting primly, elbows off the table, just as he'd been taught when he'd been adopted as the latest of Darren's super-advanced humanoid child athletes.

Darren took a long sip of his tea. "I ordered your favorite," he said kindly, dodging the question. "Macaroni au gratin with those little broccoli pieces and bits of tuna. I've always known what you liked, Son."

"Yeah, you raise someone for twenty-six years of their life and that tends to happen," Jimmy said, bitterness creeping into his voice.

"Twenty-two years," Darren corrected. He watched with concern as Chazz shaded in the nipples on stick-Chazz's groupies, and then smiled at Jimmy. "In any case, I've come today to tell you that I'm willing to take you back ... on one condition." He stopped and stared at Chazz, and then glanced at Jimmy confidingly.

Jimmy pursed his lips. "Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of Chazz," he said, raising his chin in slight defiance.

Darren looked surprised, but hid the display of emotion quickly, in true WASP form. "Very well," he said, clearing his throat. "I'm willing to take you back, put a considerable roof over your head, and re-hire Coach with triple his old salary. All I ask in return," he emphasized, "is that you take a new partner."

Jimmy's mouth was dry. "What? I - I already have a partner," he said, gesturing at Chazz. "We're a team. And Coach knows how sleazy you are, he'd never return."

"Coach is a dying breed, Jimmy," Darren said with a small smile. "He'd disappear into obscurity if he didn't have your coattails to ride out on. He'll come back in a heartbeat if it means continued exposure and success. And I can give you success, Jimmy." Darren leaned in closer, dropping his voice to a near-whisper. "I've been auditioning girl partners for you, the best money and your reputation before all this silly nonsense about a male-male skating team started can buy. You can be back on top, Jim," he said, eyes glinting. "Just say the word, and I'll take you under my wing again."

Jimmy shook his head in disbelief. "And then, what? What happens when I can't compete anymore and bring home any more medals? Are you going to abandon me again on the side of the road? Because let me tell you something, Dad," he spat. "The day you kicked me out of your limo, I had to hitchhike just to get to the nearest motel. Do you know the type of people who pick up hitchhikers, Dad? They're big, burly guys with tattoos of girls named Frances in places that no man should ever have to see." Darren blinked, once. "And as for this 'silly nonsense' ... that silly nonsense is what won me the gold! Won us the gold! Chazz is my brother now, Dad," Jimmy said, standing up and grabbing his jacket. "And you didn't give him to me."

Chazz, meanwhile, was busy drawing pubic hair onto what was obviously a natural redhead. "Damn," he swore when the crayon snapped in half. He looked up at Jimmy. "Oh, hey, um ... yeah," he said to Darren. "We're like, a team and crap. And if you can't handle that, then, well, I can't exactly blame you. Few people can handle The Chazz." He licked his fingers and rubbed them over his shirted nipples before Jimmy dragged him towards the door. "I'll take you to go," he called to the waitress, who giggled nervously at him as the pair left.

* * *

"That was really brave of you, standing up to your pops like that," Chazz told Jimmy on their way back to the bus station. "It took major cajones." The accompanying hand gesture made Jimmy smile.

"Yeah," Jimmy said softly, and sighed. "He offered me an amazing opportunity back there, and I turned it down. And you know why?" He waited for Chazz to nod or affirm that he was following the conversation, and finally smacked him in the chest. "Geez, weren't you paying attention at all in there?"

"Dude, c'mon, they let you draw on the tables with crayons!"

Jimmy groaned. "I gave it all up because of you, you dolt. Because I didn't want to break up our partnership. You're the closest thing to family I've got, I guess, and ... well, I love you, Chazz," Jimmy said sincerely. "You're my best friend, and I really, really love you."

Chazz returned the smile with one of his own. "Dude," he said a moment later, "that's kind of gay."

"Your face is gay," Jimmy replied, not skipping a beat.

"You're gay times infinity," Chazz shot back. "You're so gay, even your girlfriend is like, oh man, that guy is gay."

"That doesn't even make any sense," Jimmy exclaimed.

"Neither does the Utena movie," Chazz said matter-of-factly.

"... what?"

"The Utena movie. You know, like one minute, she's a car, and the next, she's making out with that other naked chick with purple hair. What the crap, you know?" Chazz said.

Jimmy blinked. "No?"

"Good," Chazz said, linking his arm through Jimmy's, "then we're in agreement." And with that, they strolled hand-in-hand onto the bus, back to their cozy little cabin, their makeshift flooded garage-cum-ice arena, and back to a world where Chazz Michael Michaels and Jimmy MacElroy WERE figure skating, and that still counted for something. Even when it turned out neither of them had money for bus fare and ended up having to walk the thirty mile distance back home.


End file.
